I Need a Favor
by Jon'ic Recheio
Summary: No, it had to have been at two am! Never mind that Jack was awake, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that the damned gunny had called him at two am! Or, Gibbs asks an old friend for help... NCIS Crossover, oneshot.


Mwhahahahaha! I'm back! Bet you just love that right? Riiight...anywho, just read this fic that I came up with at ten o'clock at night. Have fun!

* * *

Jack blinked, then blinked again. Alrightythen. What the hell was he supposed to do when his old friend called in that marker he owed him? Say no? Like hell. Even if he was a jarhead, the man had still saved his life, and that counted for something in Jack's book. It counted for a lot of somethings actually, but right now he didn't want to dwell on the situation from which said jarhead had pilfered him.

Slowly in a daze, O'Neill lowered the phone back into its cradle. He released a sigh and pushed up from his couch. Never mind the man could never be bothered to call at a decent hour. No, it had to have been at two am! Never mind that Jack was awake, that wasn't the issue. The issue was that the damned gunny had called him at two am! Oh well. O'Neill pushed that to the back of his mind. His friend needed help and help he would get.

Jack grabbed his keys, wallet, jacket and hurriedly pulled on some shoes before rushing out of his front door. He spared a moment to bemoan the heat that was present even at two freakin' am, then swiftly and efficiently unlocked his Ford F-250, jumped in then started the car not bothering with his seat belt. Time was of the essence after all.

* * *

Gibbs paced up and down the length of his little office space in the squad room at NCIS headquarters. The marker he'd just called in had confused and intrigued his team, but he didn't really care about that at the moment. Jack O'Neill was a good friend of his and he owed him one. He'd rescued the then Major Jack O'Neill from an Iraqi prison, which he had apparently been calling home for four months at the time.

Despite the fact that Jack was Air Force, Gibbs had taken a liking to him from the get go. He always had a witty, if not outright odd response to everything. Tony reminded him of Jack, if he were honest. It was one of the reasons he liked Tony after all. Gibbs blew out a breath and focused on the case to keep his mind off of Jack's impending arrival. The man was sure to be pissed.

They had a dead Marine who had been stationed at Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. Or, according to Abby, more commonly known as NORAD. The cover story was, the Marine was killed in a training accident, but that didn't make sense, seeing as the poor man's dead body had turned up in DC just a week after the death certificate had been issued. Imagine their surprise when they had found out that particular fact. Well, Jack would hopefully be bringing answers with him. If, that is, Gibbs got lucky.

Suddenly, a sound caught his ears.

"Oh f'cryin' out loud!" Gibbs stifled a chuckle at the familiar exclamation. Jack had arrived.

The man himself appeared in their office space a moment later, looking decidedly frazzled. His brown eyes zeroed in on Gibbs and the ex-Marine gunny fought even harder to keep the smile off his face at Jack's comical look of outrage. O'Neill stalked over to him and stopped, using his inch and a half of extra height to look down on Gibbs. He was obviously hoping for intimidation.

It didn't work.

"Hi, Jack." Gibbs greeted mildly. The damn smile was too close to the surface for comfort on Gibbs part.

"Next time, jarhead," Jack growled out, his voice low. It was steel wrapped in velvet, "call at a decent hour." Jack backed up a step, but his expression was still slightly pissed off. "You had me digging through paper for an hour to get you this." Jack unceremoniously dropped a file onto Gibbs' desk. It had "Top Secret" stamped across the front in big red letters.

Gibbs frowned, all traces of humor gone from him. He looked at the file, then back at Jack. "Do I even want to know what's in this?"

"If you want to catch the bastard who killed my Marine, then you bet you do." Jack replied. Tony, Ziva and McGee were in a strange sort of shocked silence during the entire scene.

"Uh…" Tony tentatively interrupted. He stood up from his desk and walked over to stand by Gibbs. His expression was curious. "Are you Major General Jack O'Neill, USAF?"

"Ya think?" Jack bit out; his frustration at finding out whatever was in that file was now being taken out on DiNozzo. O'Neill couldn't help it though, DiNozzo made it so easy.

"You shot Kinsey!" McGee suddenly exclaimed. He jumped from his desk now, too. "I remember now. It was all a ploy to catch this government group that was working outside of the law."

"Damn, that's not fair." Gibbs cut in with a smirk. He and Jack shared a conspiratorial look. "I would have liked to have shot him myself."

"Betcha you wouldn't have gotten caught either." Jack smirked back. Then he frowned. "Come to think, neither would I if I had to do it for real."

"I don't doubt that." Ziva answered. She walked over to O'Neill and held out her hand. "Officer Ziva David, Mossad. We are most grateful for your work in Iraq, General."

O'Neill smirk turned to a feral grin. "You're welcome." His expression turned coy. "How's ol' One Ball?"

Ziva's grin matched O'Neill's. "Cold. Very, very, cold."

McGee's eyes went wide. "You two know each other too?"

"Hardly, Probie." Tony cut in before anyone else could answer. "Ziva would have been like, barely out of collage back then. It was during the Gulf War."

"Oh." McGee blinked. He motioned to the file. "What's in that, exactly, General?"

"It's Jack." O'Neill answered with a grin. His normal lightheartedness had been restored. He refocused his attention to Gibbs. "I managed to get you clearance, even at this time of night. You can't discuss this with anyone else but your team and the Director, understand? Not even Dr. Mallard or Ms. Scuito."

"I can't tell Abby?" Gibbs did not seem happy about this. "Jack, she's my forensic expert!"

"President said no, LJ." Jack answered firmly. "Just get her the evidence and swear her to secrecy. Listen, I'll need the body at the end of the week, so you have that long to get all the evidence you can from it."

"Why do you need it?" Tony threw in his two cents worth.

"It's classified." O'Neill answered with a shrug. "I can't risk anyone else seeing it. Solve the mystery of how it got to DC, not how the Marine died. I already know the answer to that."

"Alright, Jack," O'Neill seemed shocked Gibbs agreed so quickly. And, rightly so, as Gibbs continued to speak. "But on one condition. You tell me how he died."

"Don't have too. Ack!" Jack held up his hand to forestall Gibbs' argument. "You have the clearance now, look it up yourself." Jack got a mischievous look in his eyes that Gibbs knew meant he was up to something. "In fact, why don't you look up what I've been doing for the past ten years. After all, you were always so curious."

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

After solving the case Jack had assisted them on, Gibbs barely had time to breathe, much less read classified government documents that he now had unlimited access too. But, now, two weeks later, Leroy Jethro Gibbs finally had a spare moment in which he could read the aforementioned files. He powered up his computer and logged onto the website Jack had slipped into the file he'd delivered two weeks ago.

Gibbs logged on and found himself on a highly secure server. There was a search engine at the top of the page. He typed in "Jack O'Neill". A whole slew of stuff came up, but what grabbed his attention the most was the Stargate…

Hours later, Gibbs sat back in his chair with a gobsmacked expression on his face. Slowly, a grin began to form. Aliens? Hot damn, he was so broke now! Gibbs chuckled and linked his hands together behind his head.

"Damn you, Jack!" It was said without any real malice. "I owe you three hundred dollars now." He laughed and shook his head ruefully. "Sonnovabitch."

* * *

Ye-ah, anyway this just came to me at ten o'clock at night, so if it's a little weird I blame it on too much coffee and the late hour. Well, semi late hour...oh well, review!


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